After the parade, all he had wanted to do was to sit back and relax in his bedchambers with his husband, but duty called.  As always.

He was forced to leave Tao waiting there with a promise to return, a kiss on the lips for his little fire who smiled sweetly at him as he left.

And now, that smile was all he could think about as he sat.  And listened.  And sat some more.

His Majesty, King Yifan of The Northern Moors was bored.

Waving for the mounds of salt to be carried away, he signaled for the pack of gifted war dogs to be led away by a few of his remaining attending servants.

“Very well.”  He said, crossing his legs as he spoke.  “You will be granted our aid in the form of twelve dozen bushels of wheat, fruits and vegetables in exchange for your most generous gifts.  Now, unless you have any other requests, allow the next lord to step forth…”

The aptly named Earl of Salt - a small Trivanese man who had earned his name and title through the mining of the salt coast - dropped to his knees suddenly.

“ - Your Majesty!  Please - if I may - I have one last gift to present to you.”

“Let us hear it then.”

The earl wiped the sweat off of his face, nervously smoothing his tiny mustache back before stepping aside and gesturing behind him.

“Should… should you choose to accept, I - I also am willing to offer to your family - my youngest daughter’s hand in marriage.”

After an unbearable moment of silence from the King (broken only by the quiet uproar of his court around him), King Yifan uncrossed his legs, eyebrows furrowing as he leaned closer with his elbows on his knees.

“...you must say this in jest.”

“I-I-I assure you I am most certainly not, your Majesty.”  The earl was sweating even more profusely now, wringing his hands.

“My daughter, she - she’s... why she is the most beautiful and pure being you will ever meet!”

The King’s eyes narrowed, immediately shooting a glance to the vacant throne of his husband’s as if taking offense to the earl’s statement.

“E-e-except for the King consort himself!  Of course!  He - well he is true beauty, he is grace, he -”

“Oh father, do learn when to shut up.”  A voice piped up behind him, a slender hand reaching out to pull the earl back as a young woman approached confidently in his stead.  A large, ferocious looking mutt followed right on her heel, proudly untethered.

The one who stood before the King now was a woman with more bearings of a young lord than a young lady.  With her dark hair combed back into a thick ponytail, her clothes fitted with what looked to be small pieces of leather armor, she stood as straight and tall as the knights by the King’s side, eyes staring up without any sign of fear.

“Your Majesty.”  Her voice was not deep, nor was it light, with a tone somewhere in between deference and great strength.  “I am Bita, youngest daughter of the great pack master.  Of our family, I am the most skilled in the art of the hunt.  I have hunted the great fire boars of the east and the white tigers of the west, and wear their teeth on my neck as a trophy.  I boast proficiency with both the sword, the spear and the bow.”

“My King,” She spoke, getting down on one knee and pounding a fist into her chest, “I pledge to you my dog, Lady, and my own life to you in allegiance - in exchange for the hand of your youngest brother.”

She extended a hand out now, pointing directly to what appeared to be the youngest brother of the King - a pale and fair creature with light blonde hair and aristocratic features.  Features which were twisted into a comical expression of disbelief and gaping shock.

Rubbing at his suddenly throbbing temples, King Yifan was distinctly reminded of the marital troubles he himself had faced months ago.

“I thank you for such a … kind offer.  I… shall have to bring the suggestion to the Prince himself and see what he thinks of it.  I am afraid I cannot make that determination on my own.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.  That it is all I can ask for.  I will eagerly await your reply, and will commit myself to courting your younger brother in the meantime.”

“...courting…?”

The youngest prince looked more than a bit perturbed at the thought.  The entire court was temporarily thrown into disarray as the lords and ladies turned to one another with shocked gasps and gossiping whispers.

“Shameless.  Pledging her life away like a slave.”  His sister spat without turning her head, perfect smile never falling off of her face.

What strange circumstances we find ourselves in, Kyungsoo thought to himself, leaning over his sister’s shoulder to peek at the man in question.

As the young earl’s daughter began to rise, Kyungsoo briefly studied the features of the youngest prince, finding nothing displeasing (although nothing at all interesting either) about the other’s face.

And then - for no reason at all - except maybe for something inside of him that felt subconsciously compelled to do it - Kyungsoo shifted his gaze just slightly to the right - and stopped.

There he was again.  That man.

It had to be.  Though he was more clothed now than he had been earlier (just barely - a loose shirt had been thrown on to cover his chest, although still billowy enough and cut in a way where anyone could see the rise and fall of his bare chest underneath it), the other’s distinct features - his tanned skin and dark eyes - were triggers enough to Kyungsoo’s vivid memory.  This was indeed the same man by the wall now, leaning comfortably close to the youngest brother of the king with a smirk.

“...quickly now, let us please hear the next request lest our intentions this evening be thrown completely off.”

Eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar, he could only stare at the stranger with unabashed fascination and curiosity, drawn out of his daze only when his sister took a step forward, taking away his hiding spot and bringing everyone’s gazes with it.  Including his, immediately snapping to Kyungsoo’s face with an expression that was unreadable.

Startled, he quickly shifted his gaze down with a choked noise of embarrassment, hoping not to come off as too flustered as he stepped up to take his rightful place behind his sister.

The court fell to a quiet silence as she approached, shoulders wide and gait slow to make sure that all eyes were on her mourning dress draped all over the floor, swishing over the pockmarked marble with every step.

She stooped to bow, though the bow she gave could hardly be considered one.  Kyungsoo found himself scrambling to bow as deeply as he could in compensation, trying not to flush when he realized with a sideways glance that the other man was still watching him intently.

“His lordship Kyungsoo of the Pale, Duke of the Singing Cliffs,” The court herald announced his presence first, stepping forward with a hand outstretched toward them, “...and his sister, her Majesty Queen Kyungri of -”

“ - you need not finish.”  King Yifan said, sitting up straight.  “... I already know who she is.”

Kyungsoo’s sister smiled, an expression that would have seemed so soft and sweet if not for the fact that her eyes were filled with poisonous deceit.

“I am flattered, Your Majesty.  However, as this is the first time we’ve met, my curiosity drives me to ask if my reputation precedes me?”

The King sat back with a look of cold disinterest.  “It is not you nor your reputation that interests me, dear Queen.  What has concerned me, in the past, was your husband.  However, as we both know, that is no longer something which will cause me any lost sleep.  In fact - I should thank him - and you - for the wondrous occasion we now have to celebrate.”

Like a snake coiling up, his sister’s temper flared.

“How ... dare you!”  The King’s knights were immediately on guard, swords sliding out of scabbards as they took a hesitant step forward, ready at any moment to intervene.  King Yifan waved them back lazily, smiling down at them.  Eyes traveling to and from, Kyungsoo his lips, feeling nervousness begin to build, sweat gathering in his palms as he tried to follow the heated exchange.

His sister’s back had gone completely stiff, face flushed red with anger as she tossed her hair back, pointing an accusing finger forward.

“My husband did more for my people than yours ever have!  He fed our people in a time of war - kept us safe - he was a good man - ”

King Yifan gripped the arms of his throne tightly, yanking himself forward to spit his words like poison.

“ - if he was truly a good man, how could he have mercilessly slaughtered hundreds of my young men and women?!  He stood there and watched as his men cut down children who were barely grown - he watched as my friend’s arm was torn to bits by one of your blasted contraptions - laughed as packs of dogs ripped apart and ate my men’s barely cooling bodies!  How dare you try to tell me that the man to whom you were wed was anything but a murderer!”

Despite the way Kyungsoo’s fingers gripped at her sleeve, tugging lightly in an effort to get her to stop, she shook him off furiously and stepped closer instead, completely disregarding the way the knights moved closer with a growing sense of alarm.

“You are a slanderous liar!!!” She roared.

“My lady I am afraid I do not lie!” The King roared back with equal fire. “The man who warmed your bed at night is the man who bathed in the blood of his enemies --- the same man who put his hands around the neck of my husband and left him nearly for the dead!  The marks on his skin have yet to fade, and yet you dare to show your face here to beg for my aid!”

“Your husband still lives, does he not!  Mine lies dead and rotting at your hands!!”

“...sister, sister please - ” Kyungsoo begged, though his quiet words were completely ignored.  The sound from the court was a rising wave of cacophony, one that threatened to overwhelm him in its intensity.  He could feel his vision blurring as his heart rate began to skyrocket.

“In this, you are correct!  In our hands, your husband’s head will be proudly displayed on a pike - to show the true power of our people and the shame and cowardice of his, for ever thinking that such treachery and deceit would yield him victory!”

The sound that came out of her then was nearly animalistic, and with a muted whimper, Kyungsoo felt his heart thumping painfully through his chest.  Sensing the unspoken threat, the King threw himself onto his feet, spreading his arms open and inviting Kyungsoo’s sister to step forward and do as she wished.

Before she could think to do anything, however, the King’s knights had stepped forward to form a protective line in front of the beckoning young King.  Kyungsoo threw his arms around his sister’s, holding her back as best as he could while desperately trying to whisper what he believed to be comforting words into her ear.

“‘Tis not worth it, sister --- we can come back later!”

“Let - me - go!”

“Let us come back later and try again to-morrow.  This is all too new for us, perhaps -”

“I said unhand me, Kyungsoo!!”

“P-perhaps the King just - perhaps the King just needs some time - ”

With a great huff, his sister finally threw off his arms, spinning around to crack a hand across Kyungsoo’s cheek.  The sound was loud and sudden, and he took a few steps back, stunned into silence.

“...I am the queen, brother.  Do not try to tell me what to do!!”

She spun around, shooting the King one last dirty look before gathering up her skirts and pushing through to the doors.  She moved with such a look of ferocity that the crowd parted readily for her, looking down to avoid her eyes.  The door slammed shut with finality behind her, the eerie and lingering sound echoing through the grand hall.

In Kyungsoo’s mind, it only lent itself to the white noise that was already building.  To the murmuring voices and dark noises that he could not distinguish from reality.  To the feeling of hundreds of scornful strangers’ gazes burning holes into his skin.  Holding onto his stinging cheek, he stood there in complete and shocked silence, letting the King’s angry words wash over him like an acid bath.

“You there - brother to the Queen - go back and relay to your dear sister the following message - that you and your kind will never be fully welcome within our hearts and our homes!  So long as the bloodstains still linger on our clothes, the crimes of your people will never be forgotten!”

Trembling and dripping now with sweat, Kyungsoo somehow met the gaze of the man standing by the wall, recognizing a strange look of worry in the other’s eyes.

Moments later, to the sound of a ringing bell audible only to his own ears, Kyungsoo ran from the hall, covering his ears in a fit of panic.

-

keep your head down.  look at no one.  say nothing.  let no one see you.

let no one no one no one no one no one it’s no one it’s nothing

Taking shallow, hiccupping breaths, Kyungsoo continued to lurch forward along the mossy cobblestone steps, wringing his hands.

Trying his best to keep to the shadows, he felt his head pounding and heart throbbing with every step he took, listening to every dangerous thought that sprang uncontrollably into his mind.

he said his head would be placed on a pike

he said i wonder if you can see it from here is it rotting do you think there will be flies will his eyes be open just as if he were still alive

he said the ravens enjoy picking out the fleshy bits did you know there will be nothing left no eyeballs at all just holesholesholesholesholes

“...no, no, no…” He moaned with a frightful sob, clenching his eyes tightly shut against the image of maggots pouring out of every orifice of his body.  He slapped his head repeatedly with his hand to make it stop.

It did little to help, although it did draw the attention of a pair of handmaidens as they passed by, turning their heads to spear him with their judgmental gazes.

As a result he drew even closer to the wall, desperately tracing the cracks with his fingers as he had before, except this time counting every single deep groove in an effort to reign in his wandering mind.

But the bells were growing louder now, ringing and ringing and ringing.  Except that they weren’t.

you hear them too, don’t you? she whispered into his ear. dear child. dear, sweet child.

“...no!  It is all in your mind, Kyungsoo.” He whispered to himself, raggedly wiping the tears from his eyes at the rate in which they fell.

“None of it is real.  None of it.  None...”

He walked that path for hours.

-

It was supper by the time Virgil found him sitting in the nearly complete darkness of the gardens, staring vacantly out into the trees.

His sister’s servant led him back slowly, a guiding arm pressed against his back, a hand insistently tugging him in the right direction.

He was docile now.  Much too tired to think or to fuss.  He allowed Virgil to pull him into the bedroom, sitting him down against the bed.  He felt the servant wrapping him in his blankets and took it without complaint.

Kyungri was there, sitting by her mirror, staring at him through it with angry tears that had dried into white outlines on her pale face.  Her expression was shuttered and bitter.

“He threw you into one of your fits, did he not?  That pig.” She said, standing and making her way over to him.  He looked up at her with big, empty eyes, wishing somehow she’d go away when she sat down next to him instead.  Laying a hand on top of his head, she his hair.  Much like the way she would pet one of her many dogs at home, Kyungsoo realized.

“Do not worry, Kyungsoo.  I will show him.”

“My lady…” Virgil began, only to be silenced with a look.

“Perhaps I will steal his ‘dear husband’ right from under his nose.  All men are weak for fluttering skirts, after all.  And oh, how he would cry!” She spat, looking quite pleased with herself.

Kyungsoo sighed, closing his eyes.

“Sister… we mustn’t.”

“Hm.” She responded with a frown. “...perhaps you have a point.  I’ve heard that they are both completely enraptured with each other.  What lovesick fools.  Well then, what to do, what to do?”

“Perhaps we can try asking again tomorrow.”  Kyungsoo offered quietly.

“Ah, brother, this is why I speak for the both of us.  You are much too naive when it comes to the games of Kings and fools.  No - it has been made quite abundantly clear that simply asking will not work.  He despises us already without need for a reason why.”

Perhaps if you hadn’t risen to his challenge?  Kyungsoo thought to himself brazenly.

“As much as it pains me to say so, we must find another way into their hearts.”

“And how shall we do that, sister?”

His sister sat motionless in thought for a little while, the light trickling in from the candlelight casting shadows upon her face.  Finally, as they flickered eerily in the wind, she seemed to come to a conclusion in her mind, placing her hands delicately in her lap and sitting up straighter.

“Perhaps we must learn to play the game our Trivanese counterparts have already begun.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrowed.

“By offering them a wealth of resources that we do not have?”

“No, you fool.  By finding an available royal family member to court.  I’ve heard that between the King and his consort, there are many unwed brothers, both elder and younger.  If I cannot appeal to the brute himself, perhaps it will be better to look for the favor of a scorned younger brother instead.”

“...favor?”  Kyungsoo blinked with a slowly growing frown.  “Do you mean…?”

“A favor of flesh, yes.” His sister stood, looking into the mirror as she smoothed down her nightgown. “Despite where our own loyalties might lie, sometimes sacrifices must be made.”

At the uncomfortable look on Kyungsoo’s face, she sneered.

“Dear brother, now is not the time to worry about me.  With this, I have much experience.  Do you not remember the circumstances of my first marriage?”

Yes, Kyungsoo remembered.  How could he forget?

Grey and black flashes of mumbling voices.

The sound of his sister crying, dripping rain onto his hair.

Clutching tightly onto the hand of his caretaker, watching his sister standing there beside her new husband, looking as broken and small as he himself felt.

And then those years of miserable loneliness.

Kyungsoo shook the images from his head.

“But sister, that was then.  Surely, you do not have to go through this again...”

“I will do whatever it takes to ensure our livelihoods.  We must remain sharp and attentive if we wish to play this game - something which I hope you will learn soon, brother.”

Kyungsoo didn’t particularly care to learn these types of games.  It was not one he found to be much fun, nor one in which he was really keen on attempting to play by himself.

He drowned out her following speech, far too used to the way she took charge over such things to really care.  He stared at her face instead, following it as she walked by.

She’d changed much from the sister who’d once loved him and cared for him when they were children.  The eyes he used to find so kind and comforting now seemed as crazed as he knew he was himself.

“...and now look at the sky!” His sister exclaimed, pulling open a curtain to peer out.

“The daylight has left us already and I’d nearly forgotten to feed you!  Imagine what you would be then, truly looking the part of a poor and gaunt prisoner in this horrible stockade of a castle.”  She whipped around, telling Virgil to reach into one of the many baskets still lying unpacked.

He did as he was told, throwing off the top of the cloth to reveal a layer of sweetrolls.  Peeling a section a roll off from the rest, Virgil reached over to Kyungsoo who plucked it out of his hands with a sigh.

“Sister,” He said, looking down at it and still somehow seeing the crows picking maggots out of the skull of his once-brother-in-law. “...I do not think I am hungry.”

“Ah, but you do not think, brother, which is exactly why I do it instead.  ...you should thank me, really, for here I am, stuck with the responsibility of making sure you still eat, sleep and breathe with that strange little mind of yours.” She spoke with a long-suffering tone, rubbing at her temples with her fingers as if it truly pained her to think about it.

He rolled the sweet delicately between his fingers, grimacing at the way the melted sugars clung to his skin.

“...but I’m really not hungry.” He muttered mostly to himself.  Under her hard stare he brought it to his mouth and took a small, nibbling bite anyway.

She pet his head, as if trying to give him reassurance that he was a good boy.

“Now which, which, which?” She asked, turning her attention back to the more pressing matters at hand.

“I am sure Lady Bita would not be too happy if I attempted to steal her prize.  Given the way she looks, she might even challenge me to a duel.  Could you imagine?  ...perhaps I will need to stop by the library to take a peek at the royal family tree.  Surely there must be some other brother with ties to the throne...”

“...is it not still too soon?” Kyungsoo asked between small bites, looking down at the mourning garb still laid out upon the bed.  She followed his eyes, gaze turning a little melancholy as she reached out to the skirt with her fingers.

“...things will always come in due time, dear brother.  Whether now or later, as long as I win a prince’s affections, I also win a foot through the door, and that surely is worth all the effort.”

How could you speak this way - as if you’ve already moved on?

Kyungsoo kept his mounting skepticism to himself, finishing his roll as his sister faced the mirror, examining her flawless features and brushing back her long hair with her fingers.

“Just think of our people, dear brother.  If I manage to secure a new husband - then we will earn the king’s favor!  And even though the approval may be grudging, our people will still reap the benefits.”

He thought of his homeland, starving and war-torn.  The people were no longer living anymore - just surviving however they could.

“Each step we take means a barrel of wheat for our people - every kiss and caress a meal in a child’s belly, another day saved from the tyranny of starvation and poverty.  How can you not want that for our people, Kyungsoo?”

He closed his eyes tightly, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes.

“Of course I do sister, I just… I fear for you.”

I fear that with each game you play, you will become even less my sister than you were before.

Her gaze was cold as she turned to look at him.

“Seducing a man is not difficult job, brother.  Manipulation works on so many levels.  You will watch me do so and perhaps learn a thing or two about it yourself.  If all goes to plan - and it will - we will return home victorious.”

“I suppose…”

“Tell me, Kyungsoo, when have I ever been wrong?”

A flare of pain.  He folded his arms around himself.

“I…”

Fingers grasping his chin, forcing him to look up into eyes too similar to his own.

“Here is where you tell me I am right, dear brother.”

Without any means for escape, he could see no other alternative than to comply.

“Yes, sister.  … You are right.”

She smiled a smile like those of his mechanical toys - cold and unfeeling, just a parody of something meant to be reassuring but instead left him with a growing feeling of unease.

“It’s all a matter of timing, brother.  Perhaps you do not see it yet, but you will - soon.”

don’t listen to her. she lies.

“...what?” He asked to no one at all.

The room was growing small, or perhaps he was just growing big - he was never quite sure.  All he could hear was the wood shrinking beneath him, watching as the small face of his sister slowly faded to black.

-

“Let’s go for a swim, sweet child.”

Mother was tugging him out of bed, tucking the wispy sleep-wandering hairs back behind his ears.  His vision was blurred, peering out past his eyelashes at his sister in the next bed over, still fast asleep in her soft bed, arms clutching her little machine doll in her hands.

He looked back at his mother only to find her with a finger on her lips.

“Shh,” She whispered, winking at him.

“It’ll be our little secret.”

Out by the ocean and across the sands, mother tugged him along, laughing warmly at the way his chubby legs seemed to stumble along the ground, sand building up between his toes and leaving behind tiny imprints.

He giggled.

It was cold that day, but he didn’t mind at all - for he was with mother, and she was all the warmth he needed.  For once she was smiling, and her smiles felt like rays of sun on his skin, as tender as the hug she wrapped him in, picking him up within her arms.

“The water looks nice, does it not?  Dear, dear child.”

But the water was not nice at all.  It was a mean, freezing cold, and he cried out, trying to wriggle out of her arms to escape from the rising water that lapped at his ankles.

Neither of them were wearing clothes meant to be worn in the water, he realized all too late.  But she held on fast and held on tight when he struggled, and suddenly her hands and fingers felt like shackles, tying him down to her like an anchor.

“Shh, shh.  Just a little further.”

She kept walking deeper into the water, the lapping waves rising until it had all but swallowed up his waist in its icy embrace.  He began crying now in earnest, no longer enjoying whatever game it was mother was playing.

He could hear someone calling his name faintly, and looked up to see a dozen men and women running toward them, lanterns bobbing and waving in the distance.  Even his sister was there, running ahead of the crowd in just her nightgown, doll tossed to the ground as she ran toward him with her hand outstretched and her face wet with tears.

They all looked strangely panicked.  Frightened.

As the water rose above his shoulders, he turned back to see the long-necked demon that had been wearing his mother’s skin smiling back at him with a mouth full of sharp, pointy teeth.

“Shh, shh.  Everything will be alright.  Mother will make things right.”

And then she gripped his head between her hands, pushing him down below the surface as he screamed into pitch black water.

-

Things were in the water with him, indescribably horrible things, surrounding him and crawling over his skin and under his clothes.  He struggled terribly, completely immersed and screaming out for help while the water filled his lungs.

Choking as the air left his body, he felt the hands that were still wrapped around him, hands which he desperately tried to tear away from his body.  Every time he broke free, however, they seemed to come back with a vengeance, grasping and tugging at him.

And then, as he finally began to give up, terrified to the point of paralyzed exhaustion - suddenly there was light.

The grip around him loosened and then tightened, arms wrapping around his shoulders and chest to jerk him out of his watery grave.

He felt himself hit the ground distantly, something soft and wondrous covering his lips just moments later.

And then the distinctly painful feeling of air being pushed into him, forced in where his lungs had collapsed moments before.

“A ma hr’al bina, amarin.  ‘Pina, hr’al bina!” ¹

A desperate voice that he did not recognize.

Another puff of air forced into him, and then another and another, until he finally felt the water bubbling up from between his lips, a feeling so uncomfortable that he couldn’t help but to cough it out, dribbling water from his mouth.

He opened his eyes blurrily, seeing only tan skin shimmering with droplets of water, see-through fabric hugging tight the warm body that was holding him so close.

Kyungsoo managed to take one weak, painful breath, wheezing silently as he stared up into the eyes of his savior.  The look in those eyes was one of frantic panic that was slowly softening into relief - and although Kyungsoo could not tell who it was - with his head still spinning, vision fading in and out - there was a part of him that felt protected in the other’s embrace.

Here, he knew he was safe from his demons.

Fingers reached out to brush the hair from his face, and as the face bent down toward him, words mumbled to him in a language which Kyungsoo did not understand, he relaxed into the other’s hold, falling prey once more to the darkness which consumed him.

-

¹: Don't die on me, beautiful. Please, don't die.